The Lost Colony
by snowsgirl
Summary: Ever heard of Roanoke? I should imagine so.


Yay for writing fics at... five in the morning. Actually, RIGHT THIS MINUTE, it's 5:32. Don't get me wrong, I've been up all night, so I'm tired and crazy.

Was scanning the kink meme when suddenly this came to me. I don't know why, because I don't remember seeing anything about anything like this at all... I honestly have no idea where this story came from. And yes, I did a little research on this. I'll be honest, being dead tired along with being stupid to begin with and it's reeeeaaally dark right now, it's a little spooky. Roanoke is spooky anyway... it always scared me a little. I don't like to think about it.

Anyway, Roanoke is meant to be like a young fem!America... but since this is the 14 century and all, she can't have those hair clippy things. I don't know what they're called, I don't wear them. Anyway, I'll shut up now.

**XxXxXxXxX**

It was 1585.

It had been nearly a century since anyone worth mentioning had dared to venture to this so called "new world."

But today, England was feeling brave.

At the time when the first voyage had been made, England had certainly gotten an earful from Spain, who, contrary to what one might think, was a horrendous gloater when in unusually high spirits. Of course, with the subject of war at hand, England just couldn't let this opportunity go to waste. Unfortunately, it was only just now that he had time to leave, himself.

The trip there was a long and hazardous one, but England was oh so determined to keep his stiff upper lip. Whatever that means. Even if his back was a little sore, and he was a little tired from lack of proper sleep, and the water supply was dangerously low, and even if the food tasted even worse than usual, and may have been moving, he made an effort not to complain. A lot of the passengers on board became sick, due to lack of exposure to the sun, proper exercise, and especially since something seemed to be growing on the stale crackers that had been brought over, being that was all that was left, and _God,_ there was a lot of it. Some of them died.

England didn't let any of this bother him, however, because he was on a mission. He only had a short time to complete this mission, and it might not have been entirely safe with the Spanish Armada on the prowl, but now was as good a time as any, and it may have been the only chance he would have. England was going to have to colonize the new world whether he wanted to or not, even if it killed him.

Upon arrival, England took a good look at his surroundings. It was a nice fertile land, with rich soil and a lot of greenery. He wondered if the rest of the mass was as resourceful as this. He and the crew took this time to set up a temporary camp while everyone got their land legs back before moving further inland.

In the middle of the night, there was a rather irritating rustling coming from around the camp. It seemed someone was out and about. England hadn't been able to sleep a wink since he got there, so he decided to investigate. Better him than anyone else. If it was a wild animal or one of those horrible savages described to him by Spain, he could handle it. After all, it is quite difficult to actually _kill _a nation, much less England, being the leading power at the time.

His hand groped for the lantern placed nearby, and was very careful in lighting it. He didn't want to wake anyone else. At least now he could see where he was going.

They brought a couple of barrels of the nasty stale crackers ashore, and it sounded very much like somebody decided to sample them.

"Yuck!" said a child's voice, spitting the foul substance back into the barrel, and dropping the rest on the ground.

England could just barely make out the tiny figure in the lantern's dim yellow light. 'She's not from the crew. This must be the new colony I came looking for.'

He didn't approach the young girl, but held his distance and watched as she toddled around the campsite, inspecting every little thing.

"Excuse me," he said finally, still standing where he was originally.

The little girl gasped and looked around for the source of the voice.

"Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you," said England, assuringly. "I actually came looking for you. You are the representation of this land, are you not?"

She opened her mouth and the tiniest voice came out, a little louder than a whisper, a little softer then a normal speaking volume. "I think so."

"What is your name?" asked England.

"Roanoke. Who are you?" she asked innocently.

"My name is England, and it's very nice to meet you. I've come to ask you, would you mind terribly, being my little sister?" asked England, finally walking closer to her.

"I've never had a brother before…"

"You look hungry," said England. "I know, the stuff isn't very good, is it? It's alright. None of us like it very much, but it's what we have for now."

"C-can I stay with you, big brother?" asked Roanoke. "It's dark and scary, and if you listen you can hear all sorts of creepy animals…"

"Of course," smiled England, offering his hand.

Roanoke took it without hesitation, and was pointed to a mat to sleep on, however, England found later, she snuggled close to her new big brother.

It wasn't until the next day that England got a good look at the child. When it comes to detail, lantern light isn't the best to go by. She had dirty blond hair that was short, going to her little shoulders, and blue, blue eyes that reminded one of a clear summer day. Her face was round and cherubic, so she couldn't have been more than a few years old in appearance.

England and Roanoke spent time that day getting to know each other better, while the rest of the crew worked to set up a more permanent settlement there where people could live peacefully.

For a few weeks, England taught Roanoke simple things, like what to do when she sees a wild animal, how to make simple little snares for smaller animals, just in case, and how to mark a trail if need be and she was carried off somewhere by these savages. However this time seemed to be over too soon, and England was forced to return home, leaving poor Roanoke alone with her new people.

It was now 1587.

It had been two years since England had last seen Roanoke. He was sent a letter from the new world telling him that the young colony was very sick and not doing very well, and that he must make a second voyage. Worry gripped at him every minute of the even more excruciating trip.

When he arrived, he found the girl lying in bed. She seemed to have aged a bit more, being maybe eight years old in appearance now, however, she looked terrible. She was deathly thin, and had dark circles under her eyes. A wet cloth lie against her forehead. Immediately as he stepped into the uncovered doorway of the wooden home, she smiled at him warmly.

"Big brother," she whispered, trying to sit up.

"Sh," said England. "Don't push yourself. Lie down and get some rest. You deserve it."

This time, England promised to spend more time with her. And he did.

The people seemed sickly and frail much like the young Roanoke, and many died. There were only 128 people accounted for at the time. England tried not to be any more concerned for the way things were going but it constantly showed on his face, when he wasn't around the colony, of course. She didn't need to feel any more stress than necessary.

One day, Roanoke was looking much better. She was able to get out of bed and enjoy herself in the sun, at least, and that really was something. So the two of them spent the day by a little stream surrounded by nice looking berry bushes on either side, wading, resting in the grass, and tasting the berries. They were safe to eat, according to Roanoke.

"I love you, big brother," smiled Roanoke happily.

'Where did that come from?' wondered England, but he was glad to hear it anyway.

"I love you too, Roanoke."

They shared this mutual family love for a whole year, before England once again had to leave. Roanoke had become sickly again, and was in desperate need of help, so England felt entirely responsible, and would return home and come back once more, to bring her assistance.

Roanoke begged him not to leave.

"Big brother! I'm not strong enough… please don't leave me now," she said when he told her he was leaving.

"I'll be back, Roanoke, don't worry. I'll make sure you become strong," England said, smiling and ruffling her hair.

"No! You don't understand. I know it doesn't seem like it, but I'm afraid. I'm still afraid," whispered the blond girl.

"I know. Please understand that I _will _be back. We'll make it through this. When you're stronger, you can even come visit me across the ocean. You'd like it, I know you would," said England, smiling. "Do you remember what I taught you? When marking your trail, you can leave an etching of a cross to show danger, okay? If you have time to mark it, of course."

Having said that, he stood and turned back to the ship.

"No, big brother! Please don't leave me again!" she cried, a couple of tears falling.

"I won't be long," said England, boarding the ship.

That was the last time he ever spoke to her.

When he was meant to return to visit his poor little sister, he was cut off by that damned Spanish Armada. Not a single ship could leave the British ports. And so his trip was delayed for some time.

Three more years.

It was now 1590.

When he finally returned, he felt a great deal older. England was very worried for her, and could hardly wait to see her.

Oddly enough, nobody was to be found. Not a single soul. Roanoke was gone as well.

England and his boarding crew searched everywhere.

One man found something finally, the word "Croatan" etched into the side of one of the fort walls. Not far after that, there was a tree that merely said "Cro—."

Underneath it was a deep gash that couldn't possibly have been made by a human.

England looked at the empty fort in grief.

For now, it seemed, he should give up colonization, at least till this affair with Spain was over.


End file.
